Of the many things that I am not, I can now add lumberjack to the list. I had a feeling that I might be, as is often the case when I try something new. I had romantic visions of heading out to the forest, picking out trees, efficiently cutting them down and then into pieces and hauling them back to the trailer. I brought my camera because I expected there would be plenty of time to wander around taking pictures, and I expected to be in a good mood because I love being out in nature. Well let’s just say it didn’t quite work out how I envisioned it.
It was a beautiful day, warm (+5 C or so) and sunny. Snow was melting, there wasn’t a hint of wind. And then we started the walk into the cutting zone. What appeared to be fairly hard-packed snow wasn’t- at all– but it was deep. Up to my knees deep, which made getting moving again quite the trick. And I had worn my Ropers, the most comfortable little work boots that I own. Work boots that come up to my ankles.
Within about 5 minutes of walking into the forest, my boots and socks were soaked through, and my jogging pants were wet to above the knees. Within about twenty minutes my pants were sopping wet and so heavy that I had to keep pulling them up to keep from losing them in the snow. The backs of my calves were frozen and scraped raw from the ice. Nevertheless, I tried to tell myself that it would get better. And then we started hauling the trees back through the snow to the trailer.
Shane will be the first to tell you that he never makes me do anything. But how am I going to stand there and let him do the work? I can’t do it. But I should have. I’m not sure how many muscles I pulled in my neck and back, trudging through the knee-deep snow and carrying more weight than I ever should have attempted. I think it would be safe to guess “all of them”.
After the first few loads of wood, I stopped by the trailer and looked at our pitiful collection- and that’s when I started to whine. It was either that or cry, and I do not like to cry unless I’m alone, so… I opened with, “I think this was a stupid f*cking idea.” And it went on from there. Shane suggested that I just sit on the back of the truck and relax, but you know that I couldn’t do that. How would he hear me whining from the forest?
So even though this is the same man who chopped just the tops off telephone poles and proceeded to move the heavy ends around the property with a chain slung around his waist, I made the decision that he needed me and went back out to finish what we started. After witnessing Shane wielding a chainsaw with one hand, and using the other to push the tree in the opposite direction of where it wanted to go (refusing to listen to my frantic yelling at him to let it go and get out of the way), I decided it was best not to watch him and to just haul the lighter lengths to the trailer while he was cutting.
I’m glad that I didn’t watch. I don’t know what crazy stunts I missed but I did catch him leaping into the air with a running chainsaw at one point. “You’re too heavy,” I keep telling him. I don’t have the upper body strength to carry him if he seriously injures himself. He listens about as well as his wife though.
Long story short- we did not great but not too badly, all things considered. Just under a cord of birch wood, for five dollars and a tank of gas. The next time we head out should be much easier without the snow. That really impeded our ability to move quickly. And the next time I plan on dressing appropriately and bringing extra footwear. But I think it’s safe to say, a lumberjack I’m not.